


The True Culprit

by Shiranuhi



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiranuhi/pseuds/Shiranuhi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The culprit for your dear Hellaran’s death isn’t the one you think". She didn’t even know where to start. How in the name of the Heralds was she wrong? Amaram was indeed sporting her brother’s shards. She had seen them herself. The brightlord had confirmed it too.<br/>“Am I blocking the truth, Pattern?”<br/>He hummed in response.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The True Culprit

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I’ve written just to get it out of my system. I’m still not sure wether I ship Shalladin or not, but I’m sure this conversation will happen reardless so... I thought I’d share it!

She tugged the letter deep into her safepouch. Strolling down the halls of Urithiru at night had its own feeling, even after knowing it so well. The hallway stretched forward with tall windows in one of its sides. The night was peaceful. The star shined in the sky along with the first moon Nomon indicating that is wasn’t late yet.

She didn’t let herself get distracted by the view. Instead, she tried to think about her last meeting with Mraize and what it meant this time. _The culprit for your dear Hellaran’s death isn’t the one you think_. She didn’t even know where to start. How in the name of the Heralds was she wrong? Amaram was indeed sporting her brother’s shards. She had seen them herself. The brightlord had confirmed it too.

She had to find that one piece that didn’t quite fit. To do so she had decided to ask for help. Not anyone’s help of course. But someone’s who she oddly trusted. To her convenience the man in question had arrived not hours ago, startling both her and Dalinar. As always he explained his reasons only to Dalinar, leaving anyone else in the dark. Strange, how loyalty works sometimes.

“Am I blocking the truth, Pattern?” she asked her silent companion, nearly invisible in the scarce stormlight held by the torches.

He hummed in response.

“How could I? It is not fabricated by me this time, and I’m not protecting myself by it.”

He hummed again. “Perhaps you are not. But the answer is there if you look hard enough.” he paused momentarily. “It counts as a lie either way.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth became dry. “So you do know.”

“I have listened and seen like you did when you were inquiring about this particular matter. And I think I have a clue.”

“That’s why you wanted me to go ask Kaladin.” She should not jump into conclusions. No. He missed something surely. They were about to die after all. Who cares about details when you are about to be thrown into a highstorm, anyways?

Shallan remained silent for the rest of the trip. She reached his bedroom door minutes after that. His room was situated high, near the rest of bridge four dorms and the other’s bridges squads. She hesitated, her freehand rose, about to knock on the hard wood.

What was she going to say anyways? She hadn’t actually seen him at his arrival. The man had a face like a storm and was intimidating in many ways, even on his best day. She remembered thinking the exact same things that night he woke her up the chasm. How chirped he had looked. And at the same time how he still had that air of stiffness and toughness about him.

She sighed, touching her hair distractedly and deciding she would greet him. Yes, that seemed a good idea.

She knocked.

“Who is it?” A grumpy yet exhausted voiced called from the inside.

“Shallan” She said simply, she couldn’t get a quip to come out of her. She honestly hadn’t expected from him to answer at her first call.

But she didn’t hear a response after that. She didn’t hear feet moving, or anything at all.

“Are you going to come out or not, you grumpy brigeman?” she insisted, feeling like herself again.

This time she did hear something along the lines of “storming woman” scoffed from the inside. Footsteps heading towards the door followed. But then, she sensed hesitation. She prepared to call again but the door opened and a man several feet over her head appeared.

She was shocked at first. But then she relaxed. His bright clear eyes seemed still strange to her. The contrast between his tan skin and his eyes didn’t look the same as other’s lighteyes. His were almost white. How much stormlight had he used to come here? Had there been an emergency? If that were the case, someone would have told her already for sure. She discarded that possibility quickly.

“What do you want?” He asked standing in front of her, a frown on his face.

“I have come to greet you obviously” She said with slight mirth. She certainly didn’t like the way she had to look up to face him. It made her feel little and younger. Why did the alethi have to be so tall?

The frown in his face deepened and he grunted. She felt oddly relieved that he hadn’t changed in his mannerisms. Unlike some other man she didn’t want to think about at the moment.

“Bridgemen grunts again I see. I am also pleased to meet you after this time.” She said, and before he could respond she added: “I actually need to talk to you. About… something”

“And I would like to come in you know. I need someplace with a hearth and not this storming cold.” Winter had come again for a few weeks and she certainly didn’t enjoy it or the snow it brought.

He entered first into the room. She followed irritated a bit for his lack of chivalry, but again she welcomed the familiarity. He had been the same in the chasms, ignoring her bag until she asked. It was nice to be treated with such nonchalance, she thought.

Unlike her quarters, his didn’t have a proper writing desk. Instead, a simple table with a chair stood in a corner with a sack filled with dun spheres. A small trunk was opened, and from it hanged different white shirts. She realised for the first time that he didn’t have clothes apart from his uniform and shoes apart from the boots he was wearing now. It made her feel spoiled. This was a man that had been stripped from all of his belongings the moment he was made a slave, not long ago.

He sat in the chair, extending his long legs and crossing his feet. Shallan settled for the bed, feeling a bit nervous and out of place, sitting on a man’s bed. He didn’t seem to have noticed her discomfort and waited for her to talk. He was unusually silent. Not that he was the most talkative person alive but he had talked with her down in the chasms.

“I want to ask you about-” she hesitated, searching for the right words. Why was she so nervous? Could it be because she was afraid of the truth? Or because she didn’t want to think about why Pattern suspected his account on her brother’s death? She gathered her thoughts and decided to leave her question out for the time being.

“I wanted to know what happened exactly when Amaram took the shards”

His reaction upon hearing that name was instant. His face contorted, and he averted his eyes. She looked expectantly as he rubbed the short beard he had grown this past weeks with one hand, as if troubled. He fixed his gaze on a specific place in the air, and nodded to himself. He still looked oddly pained.

“You know right?” she inquired, an overwhelming sorrow mixed with rage taking her all over again. As if it were the first time she heard about her brother’s death.

“It was on the battlefield. Everyone, Amaram’s soldiers and the enemy’s where fleeing. My friends were getting killed by this shardbearer that had come out of nowhere.” He closed his eyes, but his speech was steady and calm; though she could still hear an old pain from his words. “I was frantic, I saw how even Amaram was helpless against him. I ran towards him and-”

“No” Shallan cut him off and closed her eyes. She had suspected it but- to _hear it_. She felt tears coming from her eyes. How could she be in the same room as his brother’s murderer?

“No”

She sucked stormlight as a pure reflex. She stood uncertain. Her brother had killed too. Why was what Kaladin had done so terrible then? Why was it that she _needed_ to hold someone responsible for his death? Why did she try so hard to cover the fact that her beloved brother had abandoned his family for a better cause? She felt sick.

“I did it Shallan. I was trying to- my friends, Dallet, Cenn…” He stopped abruptly, waiting for her reaction.

Shallan sat in the bed again, silent tears falling down her cheeks. She didn’t notice Kaladin approaching and settling beside her. She also didn’t notice a hesitant arm wrapping around her shoulders.

By the time she was quiet again, she was leaning into him, both of his arms around her. She did feel sick for a second. Those hands had- but no. Kaladin did it for his friends, to protect. She reminded herself of that. This was a good man.

His grip was strong. She pushed away a bit and Kaladin started. He stared at her, worried. He let go of her, but Shallan still gripped at his uniform. She looked up. But this was the man responsible for her brother not being here. A shardbearer was unstoppable. Only someone like Kaladin would have been able to do such a thing.

“I hate you” She said, calmly and straightforward. “I wish I didn’t”

He looked defeated. He didn’t try anything to help that.

“I did what I must to protect my own.” He said, staring into her eyes.

“I hate you for it” Shallan responded. She felt sick. Why of all people had he been the one responsible? Would she be able to get over that fact? What was she going to tell her brothers? Keep them in the dark and let them believe Amaram was the culprit?

At the moment she knew only one thing. She wanted to stay as far away from this man- from Kaladin as she could. Why had she been able to accept Amaram but not him? Was it because she-

Shallan stopped that line of thought immediately. She could not think of him that way now. It didn’t matter how inexplicable fascinating she found the man. Or how-

_Stop._

Kaladin didn’t move when she went towards the door. He didn’t even flinch. When she turned to look back one last time she saw him staring at the floor, a pained expression on his features. She told herself that she definitely wasn’t expecting anything. She did.

 

 


End file.
